


Lose Some Time

by inevermetaphorididntlike



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Cheating, F/F, Infidelity, Slow Burn, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:52:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inevermetaphorididntlike/pseuds/inevermetaphorididntlike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa and Costia's relationship has turned into a spider web of a crack that's been threatening to shatter the pane. The foundation of Clarke and Finn's relationship was never that strong to begin with. When Lexa gets an assignment to do a two-month long observation piece on some artist in Boston she doesn't expect that artist to be Clarke Grifffin. She also doesn't expect the turmoil that comes. </p>
<p>-or-</p>
<p>The one in which Lexa the journalist and Clarke the artist spend two months together for a piece for Polis Magazine all while reminding themselves they're already in relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lose Some Time

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is loosely inspired by and gets its' title from the song "Lose Some Time" by Grace Potter and The Nocturnals. If you haven't listened to it before than I highly suggest you doing so. This is my first fanfic so any suggestions, comments, and feedback is appreciated. Thank You!

Lexa could feel the tension hang between them and occupy the emptiness of the room. It threatened to strike silently as bodies stayed planted by closet and doorframe. Green eyes were on brown and the space between the two was red and black. Red with anger. Black with disappointment.

“So, you’re really going to go?” Costia asked with defeat lacing each letter. All Lexa could do was nod. She knew that this would break them. They were glass that had been a spider web of a crack spreading and growing for months but Lexa knew this would shatter the pane. “You’re really going to go halfway across the country for two months while I stay here all alone?” The darker of the two women asked again, adding guilt in the process.

“This is my job, Costia,” Lexa hissed and felt her words rattle in her chest. Her job that she devoted more time into than her relationship as of late. Her job that required her to spend long nights at the office and longer nights at home reviewing her pieces before submitting them for publishing. Lexa knew that her recent habit to give all of herself to her work was unfair to the woman she had called her girlfriend for the past six years but things had changed. Ever since they moved in together Costia had been clingy, pushy, even a bit controlling. It didn’t help that they barely saw each other and when they did they were already at each other’s throats as soon as the other walked through the door.

“I feel like you care more about your damned job than you do me,” Costia scoffed. Another line of guilt tossed into the open. The natural reflex of a jaw clenching took place and Lexa could feel the tightness in her chest build. The telltale signs of her temper rising. This fight had become a daily fight and a favorite of Costia’s as far a Lexa could tell. Not a day went by that she wasn’t dealt an onslaught of guilt and shame for her working the hours she does.

“I do care, Costia, but I accepted this assignment because I needed to. If I do well on this I could be promoted head reporter,” she explained softly. The assignment being a two-month long interview and observation piece on an artist in Boston who comes from money and a well-known family. Lexa learned quickly that the editor had a soft spot, or perhaps hard on, for rich women with good hearts and a lust for philanthropy. She liked to call it the Princess Diana effect.

“So, that’s it then, huh? You’re just going to run off to Boston and spend two months with some rich bitch while I sit here and wait for you? That’s real nice, Lex,” Costia complained and shook her head. The tightness that found refuge in Lexa’s chest began to rise up her windpipe. It decided to set up shop as the lump in her throat. Her eyes followed as Costia began to turn around. The single step the darker woman took echoed through the room. “If you get on that plane tomorrow,” Costia started then looked over her shoulder dramatically. Lexa noticed the sadness in those dark eyes buried deep behind the anger that clouded them. “Don’t expect to hear from me.” With that the door slammed and shook the surrounding walls. The photo that had been haphazardly hung up on the wall by the door fell with a loud thump.

“Fuck!” Lexa screamed into the room, the tightness that had been building finally finding its’ release. With thoughts of shame and anger filling her mind she focused on packing for her trip. With every article of clothing she could hear another belittlement adding to the space between her ears. A year’s worth of “Do you even love me anymore?” washed over her, drowning her in a mix of resentment and self-hatred. Of course Lexa loved Costia. She had been with the woman for six years. The question was, is Lexa in love with Costia. It was a question that Lexa wasn’t quite ready to find the answer to.

With a deep sigh she grabbed the light green button up that she had bought years ago. As her fingers rubbed over the soft fabric the memory of Costia’s eyes on her the first time she wore it surrounded her. They were young and Costia looked at her like she was a goddess. With her eyes closed, Lexa could still make out the way Costia moved across the room toward her and pinned her on the bed. The feeling of buttons being undone, one by one, flowed into her. With fondness Lexa could still recall the soft sound of the shirt falling to the floor. With a chill up her spine she could still remember the gentleness of a kiss pressed to her neck. At the sound of the front door closing the moment is broken and Lexa couldn’t even remember the last time Costia looked at her with anything but disappointment.

Long fingers ran through her chestnut curls before she looked over to the frame that was face down on the floor. Slowly Lexa walked over to mess and gingerly lifted the frame off of the ground. The glass that had been inside was shattered and threatened to cut Lexa if she wasn’t carefully. With great attention she brought the frame over to the trashcan and winched as each shard of glass clunked against the metal siding if the bin. She gently fished the picture of her and Costia out of the frame. They were smiling. They were happy. It was better times. Lexa tossed the rest of the frame away and brought the picture of her over to her suitcase. Tears began to well in her eyes but Lexa choked them down as she slid the picture into the pocket of her suitcase. As she zipped up the luggage she hoped that maybe they will find better times.

 

* * *

 

 

When she left for O’Hare in the morning Costia was already gone. There was no note left behind. There was no text on her phone. The threat that Lexa had thought was empty so far was panning out to be real. By the time she landed in Boston, after a long and unnecessary layover in New York City, it was already seven o’clock at night. From the backseat of a cab Lexa let the thoughts of their fight float in and out of her head as her eyes watched the sun begin to set to the west of the city. The same guilt that kept her up last night, tossing and turning in futile attempts to sleep, was the same guilt the kept her from researching the subject of her piece, Claire Griffin. At least that’s what the secretary wrote down, not that Lexa could make out the damned woman’s handwriting anyway.

When she checked into the hotel she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. The thought that Costia could let her leave for two months without a single goodbye began to consumer her. During the elevator ride up Lexa concluded that she didn’t blame her. Between not see each other and fighting when they do, Lexa couldn’t help be feel she deserves the cold treatment. After all she was the one who worked the long hours. She was the one who hadn’t popped THE question yet. However, as she walked into the hotel room she’ll be calling home for the next two months she felt a bit of a weight fall off her shoulders. Maybe she needed this, a break from her typical routine. Her thoughts were broken up when her stomach grumbled and rattle her rips, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since her first flight. She quickly placed her clothes in the closet and dresser before changing into a pair of dark skinny jeans, high brown boots, and the light green button up. Shaky hands ran over the front of the shirt before balling into tight fist. Costia be damned, Lexa was going to make this most out of this trip.

After stopping at the receptionist’s desk and getting a recommendation on where to eat she walked the two blocks to a bar called The Ark. Lexa had never been to Boston but based of her experience watching _The Departed_ she expected the bar to be dark, dingy, and filled with drunken Irishmen. To her surprise she was met with a light, open space. Beautiful pieces of artwork hung on the walls. Some of them landscapes, others portraits, a good number of photographs, and even a few abstract pieces. Lexa was impressed to say the least. One piece in particular grabbed her attention and soon she found her feet moving toward it. The title read “Sunrise on the Charles.” It was a beautiful watercolor piece that blended cool and warm colors. Blues and oranges fought for dominance in the piece. For some unexplainable reason she felt drawn to the piece. She was so drawn she didn’t even notice when a blonde stranger walked over to where she was standing and stood by her side. Her thoughts were broken when said stranger spoke.

“Like the piece?” the woman next to her asked. Lexa jumped, startled to find someone by her side. She was close to scolding the stranger about sneaking up behind people but any thought of that nature was dropped when she looked at the woman. She was gorgeous. Her long blonde hair flowed below her shoulders and her eyes were azure and deep. Lexa swallowed hard than ran her tongue over her lips before responding.

“It’s beautiful,” Lexa fumbled out and could feel heat begin to spread across her cheeks. She ducked her head down for a moment, silently telling herself to get her shit together. After all, the woman next to her was just a woman and Lexa had someone back home in Chicago.

“Have you’ve ever seen it in person?” the blonde questioned with a wide smile. It made Lexa’s knees go weak. All Lexa could do was shake her head no, afraid that if she spoke words her mouth would betray her. “This piece doesn’t do it justice. You'll have to see it at some point.”

“I’ll make sure to do so while I’m here,” Lexa replied. Her fingers distracted themselves with a button on her shirt, avoiding eye contact with the stranger.

“Visiting, huh? Business or pleasure?” the woman to Lexa’s right chuckled. Her smile was still spread across rose tinted lips. Lexa looked the woman in the eyes and smiled back. Something in her heart was flutter as her head was yelling at her.

“Business but hopefully it’s pleasurable,” Lexa said and was met with a loud laugh from the stranger. Instantly Lexa’s checks grew brighter and she shook her head. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“Don’t apologize,” the blonde giggled and placed her hand on the top of Lexa’s shoulder. It caused the taller woman to clench her jaw and take a deep breath in. Normally she would tell the woman that it’s rude to touch people without their permission but instead her jaw was clench due to her breath catching in her chest. “How long are you here for?”

“Two months,” Lexa replied and sighed quietly when the hand fell from her should. Part of it was in sadness and part of it was in relief. “I actually just got in from Chicago, oh about…” she trailed off and took her phone out of her pocket to check the time, ignoring the lack of texts and calls, “an hour or so.”

“Two months? Holy shit,” the stranger added. Lexa noticed the amusement in her eyes. The blonde tilted her head and asked, “an hour ago? Have you eaten yet?” Lexa just shook her head and before she knew it the blonde grabbed her hand. The woman brought them to the bar and flagged down a bartender. “Hey, Murphy! Can we get a cheese pizza, I’ll take a Sam’s, and…” the blonde paused and looked at Lexa, their hands dropping in the process. “I’m sorry. I just realized I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Lexa and I’ll take a whiskey,” the taller woman informed her which earned a smile from the stranger. The blonde reached out her hand for a shake, which Lexa graciously accepted. When their hands touched Lexa’s chest filled up with a comforting warmth.

“I’m Clarke,” the blonde said then dropped Lexa’s hand, turning her attention back to the bartender. “And Lexa will take a whiskey… make sure it’s some of the good stuff too, yeah,” Clarke ordered to which the bartender responded by brushing his dark bangs out of his eyes.

“You got it, Princess,” he muttered under his breath and began to make the women their drinks.

“What the fuck, Murph! What did I tell you about calling me that?” she growled, throwing a coaster in the man’s direction. “Call me that again and you’ll be assigned keg clean up duty again,” Clarke warned as Murphy threw his hands up in false innocence. Lexa watched the exchange with a smile. She liked Clarke’s confidence. Their drinks were placed in front of them and Clarke smiled at Lexa, “Come on. Let’s sit at a booth.” Once again Lexa was following the blonde. This time she walked slowly behind Clarke. The woman was wearing a pair of jeans that seemed to hug her body in all the right place. Lexa sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and exhaled deeply. They took their seats in the booth and sat across from one another. “So, what are doing in Boston?” Clarke asked and brought the beer in her hand to her lips. Lexa’s eye diverted to where flesh and glass met for a moment before looking at Clarke.

“I’m a journalist,” was all Lexa offered and brought her own drink to her lips. She hummed softly as the liquor warmed her from the inside out. “So, Clarke, I take it you’re the boss?” she asked with a playful smile on her lips, sipping on the dark liquor again. She decided to change subjects.

“Got that right,” Clarke affirmed with a smug grin. Lexa watched as the blonde took a long drink from the beer until it was almost gone. The taller of the two followed suit and drank until her tumbler was empty. Clarke raised an eyebrow and signaled to Murphy for another round. “Rough flight in?” she asked then finished off her drink as well, placing the glass to the side. “Rough past year,” Lexa groaned and relaxed back into booth. Her finger circled around the lip of her tumbler on its’ own accord. It wasn’t until she caught Clarke’s eyes drifting down to her hands did she notice.

“I have to ask, Clarke, are you usually this friendly with all your patrons?” It was asked with the hint of a smile. Lexa watched as the corners of Clarke’s mouth slightly shifted up, a look Lexa couldn’t quiet pinpoint clouding over blue eyes.

“Only the pretty ones,” the blonde countered with a sly grin. Out of the corner of Lexa’s eye should could make out the bartender coming towards them with the second round of drinks. She wondered if this would be considered flirting and then wondered if flirting would be considered cheating. Guilt shot through her just as the whiskey was placed in front of her and she calmly reached for the glass and chugged the drink in one go. “I’m that bad of company, huh?” Clarke chuckled an eyebrow raised again.

“No, no. It’s not you, Clarke… It’s something else. Will you make the next one a double, please?” Lexa asked the bartender and handed him the empty glass. He simply nodded his head and took the glass from Lexa.

“I’m surprised you’re not drinking the harder stuff. Don’t you normally get shit faced on Thursdays?” Murphy questioned Clarke with a smirk as he handed her the beer. Clarke rolled her eyes and took a long sip of the beer.

“I have a meeting tomorrow morning and don’t you have a job to do?” she mocked sarcastic. Murphy huffed then walked back to the bar leaving the two women alone again. Lexa could begin to feel the signs that she was getting tipsy. Her face was hotter, her finger tips tingled a bit, and she even let out a small giggle during the exchange between Clarke and the bartender.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say he didn’t win employee of the month,” Lexa joked which earned a laugh from Clarke. It was a sweet laugh that made Lexa smile along with the blonde.

“He’s not terrible. He’s just an asshole who doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut,” Clarke explained between sips of her beer. Lexa’s eyes trailed to where skin and glass met again but this time she was caught. Dark blue eyes locked on green ones and Lexa felt her breath leave her lungs. Clarke grinned knowingly before placing the beer down. They sat in a tense yet comfortable silence until the pizza came with Lexa’s double whiskey.

“Oh thank god,” Lexa breathed out at the sight of food and grabbed a slice of the pizza. She took a bite and hummed in satisfaction. Her eyes found Clarke’s and the blonde offered her a soft smile. “It’s good,” Lexa stated and took a sip of her whiskey. “But it doesn’t bet Chicago’s deep dish.”

“Ouch,” Clarke faked hurt yet a smirk playing at her lips. They each ate and drank in silence. By the end of the meal Lexa was feeling a little more than buzzed. Her head felt light and the tingling sensation that started at her fingertips began to work its’ way up her arms. As a new song came over the speakers of the bar Clarke gasped. “I love this song!” she shouted and jumped out of the booth. “Let’s dance,” she proposed, her hand extended out to Lexa.

“Okay,” Lexa nodded, taking Clarke’s hand in her own. Naturally their fingers laces together and Lexa fought back the thought of it feeling right. They made their way to the dance floor and began to move to the music. It started out as innocent at first, only their hands touching as the gave each other space. As the liquor hit Lexa and the song progressed, however, innocence was soon pushed aside. Clarke closed the gap between them until their fronts were pressed against each other. Lexa wrapped her arms around the shorter women’s waist while Clarke’s arms rested on the brunette’s shoulder. The voice in the back of Lexa’s head, that sounded an awful lot like Costia’s, screamed “Is there another woman?” She pushed it away and instead forced on Clarke in front of her. The combination of alcohol and the effect the blonde had on her caused Lexa to slip a knee between Clarke’s legs. Dark blue eyes met Lexa’s and the brunette couldn’t help but notice the way the Clarke’s lips parted. Their hips moved together to the rhythm of the song. Lexa couldn’t help but bring her hands down lower to rest just above the woman’s ass.

“I should probably tell you,” Clarke started, her fingers tangled in Lexa’s chestnut locks. The blonde brought her lips to Lexa’s ear, slightly brushing against the soft skin there. Between that and the way their bodies moved together it was almost enough to make Lexa drag Clarke to the bathroom fuck her against a stall. “I have a boyfriend.” At the words Lexa felt her stomach drop. She pulled away a bit to look at Clarke. They were both screwed.

“I should probably tell you I have a girlfriend,” Lexa replied just as the song ended and the DJ switched to a slow one. Lexa watched as blue eyes flooded with sadness and perhaps regret. Clarke’s finger slowly untangled from Lexa’s hair and the brunette’s hand drifted back to the blonde’s waist. Legs unlocked and sudden there was space between them. Costia’s face washing over her. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Lexa whispered softly and brought her hand up to Clarke’s face to brush away a loose strand of golden hair.

“You’re right we shouldn’t be,” Clarke nodded and gently pulled her body away from Lexa’s. The brunette watched as Clarke ran her hand through her hair and sigh deeply. “I… I should go,” Clarke stuttered out and looked at Lexa with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa apologized as Clarke ran off of the dance and out the door. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath and walked her way over to the bar. All she wanted to do at this point of the night was go to sleep. She was turned on, felt guilty, and knew she’d have a hang over in the morning. When she tried to pay her tab she was told it was already taken care of. With a nod she made her way to the door and began to walk back to the hotel. She stumbled along the way but she managed to make it in one piece. Exhausted and drunk she collapsed on top her bed still in her clothes from the night. She set her alarms before falling into a booze induced sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa sat at a table in the back corner of the coffee shop. It was surprisingly loud but she was also slightly hungover. Nervously, she checked the note the secretary had given her one more time. Claire Griffin. Black Flat Coffee Shop. 9:30 am. Yet every time the door opened to the café no one even looked her way. All morning she struggled to shake Clarke from her mind. The woman was gorgeous and funny and as far as Lexa could tell was doing well for herself. Lexa couldn’t remember the last time she felt that turned on so quickly. She’d like to blame it on the booze but she knew better. Blue eyes were still ingrained in her mind along with soft, plump lips. A shiver rattled through her at the memory of Clarke’s hot breath teasing the sensitive skin by her ear. The memory was lost when she heard the door open again this time revealing a familiar face. At the sight of a blonde mane Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat and stomach flipped inside of her. When they locked eyes she watched as confusion flickered across azure eyes but it was quickly replaced with anger. Her jaw began to clench when Clarke began to march toward her with her hands balled in a fist.

“Fuck me,” Lexa cursed under her breath before Clarke reached her table. The blonde hunched over her and stared at Lexa, her nostrils flaring. The taller women’s throat tightened as her hands gripped the table she was sitting at.

“You’re Alexandria Woods?” Clarke growled as she stood, looking down on Lexa. The brunette’s eyebrows knitted together confusion as to how Clarke knew her full name. She didn’t recall divulging those details of her life to blonde. Suddenly it hit her and a wave of anxiety and discomfort consumed her.

“You’re Claire Griffin?” Lexa asked, shocked at the fact the blonde had lied to her about her name. It was the brunette’s turn now to look at the other woman with anger. “You lied,” she simply stated. Her eyebrow arched and her jaw clenched tighter. Clarke, or Claire rather, narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” the blonde spat out. Lexa readjusted herself on her seat, sitting up straighter. Silently she grabbed the note from her secretary and pointed out where the messy scrawl clearly said Claire Griffin. The blonde snatched the note from Lexa’s hand and examined it. A scoff escaped her lips and Lexa watched as she sat down on the chair across from her, shoulders slumped. “Whoever wrote this fucked up. It’s supposed to say Clarke Griffin. I’m the one you’re interviewing for Polis Magazine, Lexa,” Clarke explained with a force of bluntness to her tone. All Lexa could do was look at the note then back at Clarke. There was a sudden bolt of embarrassment and nervousness that shot through her. The realization that she was going to be spending almost every day with Clarke for the next two months drowned her.

“I…” Lexa choked out and took the note back from Clarke. “I,” she began again but was cut off when a familiar ringtone came from her phone. Her eyes peered down as a picture of Costia’s smiling face came up on the screen. “Fuck,” she hissed under her breath, earning an eyebrow quirk from Clarke and all Lexa could do was look up at the blonde. It was all too much for her. Guilt from last night. Guilt from leaving Costia alone. Anger. Confusion. Shame. They surrounded her. “I can’t be here,” she whispered out. Without collecting her things or looking back at Clarke she got up and walked out of the coffee shop. Her heart was racing, her chest threatened to collapse in on her, and her head began to spin. Lexa was about to bolt, she had no idea where she was going to go but she needed to get away from there when she heard someone call out to her.

“Wait!”


End file.
